


Secret Protector

by Vicestor



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Carver survives!, M/M, Sort Of, Unrequited Love, retelling of DA2 in Carver's perspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21659536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicestor/pseuds/Vicestor
Summary: Carver realized something about himself, but it was too late.
Relationships: Anders/Carver Hawke, Anders/Male Hawke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a retelling of DA2 in Carver's perspective. Might change the events a bit. My friend goaded me into writing this so ... ahem.  
> Tags may update as the fic progresses.  
> Note: Carver survives!

Carver crinkled his nose as his brother led them into the clinic. The scent was a mixture of sweat, blood and something rotten. All around them, people with various degrees of sickness were coughing, wheezing, or groaning in pain.

He saw his brother take in the view in a quick glance, before making his way inside. People grumbled about cutting the queue as he pushed past, but no one dared to shove him aside. Carver did not know if it was because his expression or those intimadating-looking daggers on his back. He knew his brother could cut a very daunting figure, and Carver was bitter – he was the one who carried a big sword, after all!

The crowd parted and revealed a figure working standing behind a wooden table. There was a boy lying on top of it. The healer behind was casting magic, tendrils of blue light swirling around his deft fingers. The man was tall but thin, his face hidden in shadows as he healed the boy.

Curious, Carver stepped forward to take a closer look. He never understood magic, but this was unlike what Bethany practiced with their father. He felt a pleasant tingling in the air, like a gentle caress. Bethany’s was … more aggressive, fierce yet protective, which came as a surprise for both of Garett and Carver. It made sense, years later, when Bethany showed remarkable talent in casting fire spells. Their sister is as sweet as deadly, and Carver, despite his jealousy at Bethany having a closer bond with father, was secretly very fond of her.

He saw his brother take another step forward as the healer finally put down his hand. He lifted his head and Carver caught a brief flash of blue. Something seemed to discharge in the air, and the pleasant sensation was gone. The healer staggered backwards, hazel eyes half closed in exhaustion, but a helpful arm from one of the helpers helped to steady him.

He watched the man rest beside a pillar with strange fascination. The healer was clutching at his staff, knuckles white, panting softly. Then he straightened, looked around and immediately spotted Garett. Instantly the hazel eyes were alert, tiredness gone, as the man swung around with his staff tilted at their way. A silent threat.

“I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?”

Even he was not looking, Carver could sense the smirk on his brother's face. “Strange occupation for a warden,” he pointed out with a hint of amusement in his voice, “aren’t you all about taint and death, not healings or salvations?”

For a moment the healer looked nervous. He bit his lower lip as he eyed each one with suspiciously. Then something in those eyes hardened and he straightened his back in a defiant gesture, "did the wardens send you? I’m not going. Those bastards made me give up my cat.”

Garett arched an eyebrow, “your cat?”

“Ser-Pounce-A-Lot,” the healer declared, a hint of pride as he pronounce that ridiculous name, "he swatted a genlock on the nose. Drew blood, too. " Then his face changed into a scowl, “those wardens made me give it up. Said it made me too soft.”

“Well, I am not from the wardens,” Garrett's lips quirked upwards briefly, “I am just here for information about the Deep Roads. In fact, I am here for the map. I heard you have it?”

“But why would you want it?” the healer narrowed his eyes.

Garett took one step closer. The man’s eyes widened as if deer caught in the headlight, obviously daunted by his brother’s sudden change of demeanor. Yet he stood his ground.

Carver is reluctantly impressed. Underneath the humorous façade, his brother is in fact an extremely dangerous man. Sometimes even Carver is wary of him. He would do anything to get what he wanted, and people standing in Garett’s way would soon learn their positions are the worst places to be. 

“You can tell me the way, willingly or not.” Garett’s tone was nonchalant - even gentle - as he delivered his threats, but Carver spotted that feral glint in his eyes and knew troubles were coming. Unconsciously, he gripped the hilt of his sword, muscles taut and breath bated.

Surprisingly, the healer did not flinch. He stared down at Garett, lips pulled back into a snarl, “don’t threaten me, boy.”

If he was less tense, Carver might be bursting into laughter. It is not everyday he sees his brother, the mighty, fearsome Garett Hawke, being threatened by a scrawny darktown healer. He had to give the man credits, although the healer himself was currently trembling slightly under Garett’s gaze, tongue darting out to wet his lips subconsciously.

Garett just simply stared back, his face an impeccable mask of bland neutrality. After a century of excruciating staring-contest, the healer’s shoulder slumped.

“Fine,” he huffed, and paused as something dawned in his eyes, “… although, a favor for a favor. I’ll help you, you’ll help me?”

“It depends. No children or animals.”

Carver wished he could punch his brother. Sometimes, even his supposedly charming façade is irritating. He felt even more annoyed when he saw a glimpse of genuine amusement lighting up those honey-colored eyes, all because some stupid remarks made by his brother. _He was threatening you a moment ago, you know._

“Don’t worry, I am not a blood mage. I came here to aid a friend. He is a prisoner in the wretched gallows. I’m afraid,” a shadow passed the healer's face as his voice dropped to a whisper, “the templars have learnt my plan to rescue him. If you … if you help me bring him safely past them, you shall have your map.”

Behind them, Bethany piped up, “I don’t know, we shouldn’t draw more attention from the templars. And yet …” she trailed off, biting her lower lips.

When Garett turned to her, his eyes were soft. “I see, Beth,” he said, before he turned back to give the healer a nod, “you make yourself a deal.”

The healer looked visibly relieved. “Thank you,” he whispered, “meet me tonight, at the chantry. Bring… whatever you need. I can handle the rest.”


	2. Chapter 2

Carver cursed under his breath when the loud clanging noise of armors broke the silence of the night. His hands were instinctively on the hilt of his great sword, stepping sideways to observe the templars better. His brother disappeared into shadow at the sight of first templar, no doubt doing his stealthy trick of backstabbing. That left the healer – Anders – defenseless.

Carver did not know what drove him; but the next instant he was beside the kneeling man, blocking him from templars’ view. He swept his sword in a deadly arc to make sure the attackers were out of melee range. From experience, he knew mages could be very vulnerable.

It was almost like protecting Bethany. He either charges or taunts the enemies, while she rains fire from above, with Garett appearing at the flank to plunge his daggers into seams of armors. Only now there was no scent of charred flesh, but rather … electricity.

He sneaked a glance back and was momentarily stunned. Anders rose to his full height with bright blue cracks appearing on his skin, eyes ablaze with brilliant light. In front of him, three templars started to twitch in their spot as lightening passed through. Somewhere in the fray Garrett let out a triumphant sound before he used the opportunity to knock out two of them.

Carver plunged his sword to finish the third one when Varric indicated that the fight was over. He turned to Anders, who clutched at the front of Karl’s robe desperately.

“Please, Karl …”

“I can’t stand to not hear the music … see the colors again,” Karl said quietly,” you must kill me.”

“Karl-"

“It’s what the man wanted.” Garett’s voice is equally quiet, but Carver cannot see his face in the dark. His brother simply took out one of the smaller dagger and put it into Anders’ hands. The latter was shaking, and the dagger almost dropped. In a surprisingly gentle gesture, Garett wrapped his hand around Anders’ smaller hand, and closed the fingers for him.

There was something glistening in the dark on Anders’ cheeks, but Carver did not register what it meant before Anders suddenly close the distance between him and Karl. He kissed the man passionately, desperately, as he plunged the dagger at his back, right at where the heart is.

And he let the man fall, like a stringless puppet, onto the ground.

“I need a moment.” He said before he turned and fled the scene.


	3. Chapter 3

Carver instantly regretted his argument with Anders when he was engulfed in a massive column of fire. _Damn the Bone Pits_ , he thought bitterly. _And damn that mage with his endless complaint on mage plight_. If he could stop harping on it for even a second, Carver would not have snapped. Garett had to break them off when he sensed there was a fight brewing, and Carver was reluctantly thankful to him. _Really, break the nose of your party's only healer before a fight is bad luck. So is pissing him off._ Now Carver is certain that he could receive no help at all.

  
Coughing and struggling to stand, Carver tried his best to ignore his now scorching armour. He would get a lot of burn scars by the end of the fight, if there was an end. Wiping away the soot on his face, he squinted to see Garett plunged yet another dagger into the thick skin of the drake, only to be thrown back by a powerful back kick. Varric gave an alarming shout as he reloaded his Bianca to cover for Garett, and beside him Bethany summoned a cone of ice. The drake saw them and turned his head, flames lit up his throat as he prepared for another breath of fire. Despite his exhausted state, adrenaline rushed through his blood stream as he let out a cry. He could not let the monster harm his little sister. Still the pain was too great - even a slight movement caused his body to spasm in agony. He swayed and wobbled, sword dragging on ground, unable to close the distance between him and the drake.

  
Suddenly there was a hand at his back, and something washed against his skin like summer breeze. The horrible burning feeling lessened to a dull ache, and his skin itched when he felt his wound knit together.

"Carver", a voice said, "can you stand?"

  
Carver gazed into a pair of concerned honey-brown eyes. He was still dazed, but strength has returned when the pain subsided. "Yeah," he grunted, "I'll manage."

  
He lifted his sword. 

  
He charged right at the drake, ignoring the concerned protest behind him. Momentarily distracted, the drake was hit by a cleverly aimed bolt at the gap between his scales. Garett shouted triamphantly as he hacked at the dragon with renewed vigour.

  
Now completely enraged, the drake let out a mighty roar to breath fire on Carver. He braced for another unbearable heat blast, only to find the fire quenched by a well-placed ice spell. Anders took the position behind him to aid his attack, his staff hitting ground to unleash a bolt of lightening after an impressive twirl. He nodded at Carver, expression resolute.

  
Carver continued to taunt the drake. He raised his sword for a direct frontal assault, keeping the attention away from his family and friends. Perhaps he had overdone it - because at the next moment, a massive claw landed directly ahead of him, causing him to stumble. Another claw sweapt around to catch him, and Carver found himself dangling in midair, under the gaze of two giant golden orbs.

  
Even with all his bravery, Carver found the moment terrifying, but nothing compared to the violent shaking afterwards. His inside seemed liquified, sloshing against a shell that is his skin. The claws dug into his armour and penetrated his flesh, reopening the burn wound healed just now. "Carver!" He heard Garett shout distantly, but his vision was turning dark. Anders gave an equally alarmed yell as healing magic started to envelope him, but Carver knew this time it would not be enough.

  
After almost a century, he felt the claw holding him suddenly went limp. He fell unceremoniously onto the ground, and then there were two arms dragging him up. Another pair of hand was busy working to unclasp his armour, and then prodded at his wound. Carver squirmed, trying to roll away to avoid the searing pain.

  
The hands withdrew, and Carver heard Anders sigh. "He's in a bad shape, Garett. I need to go back to the clinic for proper healing."

  
"Then I'll carry him. Varric, " his brother asked, "can you carry his armour?"

  
"Sure thing." The dwarf replied. Carver felt him draped against his brother's shoulder, and for a brief moment he thought of all those fight he used to get into when he was just a little boy. Garett always carried him home like this. You should feel humiliated, his pride whispered at the back of his mind, but Carver found himself not even having the strength to protest.

  
-

  
He woke up briefly from his slumber after an indeterminate amount of time. His whole body ached, and all the bandages felt scratchy. He felt a hand on his forehead, presumably to test his temperature. Then there was a bowl thrusted against his parched lips. "Drink." A voice whispered. Carver tasted bitterness and firmly pressed his lips together.

  
"Carver," the voice sounded exasperated now, "please drink it. It'll help you get better."

  
"No," he croaked, turning his head away from the bowl, "... sleep. I want to sleep."

  
"Well, sleep can't help you much if you don't have your medicine." The voice was getting irritating. Carver wanted it to shut up.

  
A sigh. "You are a difficult patient, you know." The voice huffed and Carver heard feet shuffling. He cracked open an eye to see feathers and strands of gold hair. Only after a moment or two did he registered the man standing in front as Anders. That explained the scent of elfroot here.

  
"Alright, you can have it later, but I need to do check-up first." Setting the bowl aside, Anders crouched down to examine the bandages. Nimble fingers undid the knot as he swept his eyes across. His eyes were intent and focused, and Carver could almost hear Anders assessing his wound inside his head.

  
"Not good." That was his conclusion when blue tendrils started to curl around his fingers. Magic, soothing and pleasant, caressed his skin and quelled the burning ache. Carver almost gasped when the blue glow touched his abdomen - he could no longer feel the pain from the particular large gash there. Almost instinctively he moved closer to Anders, trying to bask in the blue glow of healing magic.

  
"Still recovering?" Another voice - his brother's - snapped him out of the daze. Carver scowled and inched himself away, unwilling to be caught showing weakness. Anders, thankfully, ceased his ministrations and started to wrap him in new bandages.

"He could recover faster if he listened to the healer." He said, while giving a pointed look at Carver.

  
Garett chuckled at the comment. "Ah, but Carver's always the petulant one in our family. My mother had to chain him on bed when he needed to take medicines."

  
Anders arched an eyebrow. "I see. That explained his resistance. Well, did you come here to help me make sure your brother behave?" There's a mischievous twink in his bright amber eyes. Garett smirked. 

  
"Your wish is my command," he said, and Carver detected a faint blush on Anders' cheek. Inwardly he wanted to roll his eyes. Garett likes to torture him, especially by flirting with his healer in front of the sick brother. Bastard.

  
"Do you want me to restrain you, little brother? Like the old times, when mother tried to force soup in you." He was advancing now, and Anders was not helping by standing there watching them with an amused expression. Carver scowled.

  
"I can drink myself." He sat up and took the bowl, gulping the content down resolutely. The liquid tasted even more foul than he imagined.

  
"That's one impressive trick to get him take medicines." Anders commented when Carver set down the bowl. Garett smirked again, this time at Carver, before turning back to Anders.

"Anything for my favourite healer," he declared, earning him another blush from Anders.

  
Carver decided it was time to roll over, shut his eyes and feigned sleep. He wanted to hear no part of his brother's exchange with Anders now.

  
-

  
Three days later he was allowed to leave. Finally. Garett visited them almost every day, but Carver saw through it as a poorly-disguised attempt to spend more time with Anders. At first Garett wanted to give Anders coins, but the healer had turned them down. Now he settled for rare herbs and guard duty around the clinic. Garett was never good at healing anyways. At least he would not flirt with Anders all day long if he spent most of his time outside the door. Carer's ears would have gone deaf in that case.

  
Now he was back at their uncle's home, and Carver reluctantly admitted that he missed the clinic a bit. He has grown accustomed to the scent of elfroot. Without it, he found it hard to fall asleep. However, his little discomfort was all forgotten when the deep road expedition drew near - Garett went home one day and announced that he had fifty sovereigns, his face could barely contain the mirth. Carver trained even hard in preparation for that. He needed to go to the deep roads, to prove that he could handle himself, and he was no longer Garrett's baby brother.

  
That was why the news of Garett not bringing him made him furious. In fact, both Carver and Bethany were left behind, because Garett wanted to protect them. Carver only fumed - his brother was denying his chance to actually do something. Garett - always Garett - who got most attention. Even Bethany was better than him, because she had the gift of magic, like their father. Carver was the one to be protected and thus ignored, but deep down he knew he was stronger than all of them. He is a warrior, and all he needs is a chance that Garett took away.

  
He glared dagger at Garrett's party. Varric was leading them, followed by the guard's captain. Carver bitterly thought Aveline's place should have been his - but clearly, his brother thought she was more competent. The thought stung more than it should, but Carver pushed it aside. His brother was the next, and he was walking side by side with the healer. For an instant Carver recalled the gentle hands and the faint lyrium tang of magic. He was the one who once paid attention to Carver, although it was in the form of either heated argument or a healer's care for his patient. _Even that is taken away_ , Carver sulked, when he noticed Garrett's arm has sneaked its way around Anders' waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's quite late and unbetad! Probably edit later


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW warning!

The was no news after three whole weeks, and Carver felt a twinge of guilt. If his brother died in the expedition, Carver would hate to admit his last thought to him was out of jealousy. Still, he held his emotions back and put on a stoic look. Now with their mother worried sick and an apostate sister to look out to, Carver could not afford to be distracted.

  
It turned out he failed his last duty as well. Two days later the knight captain knocked on their door, and Bethany was taken away. Mother cried until she almost passed out, and Carver gritted his teeth as he held his mother close. He would have struck out if he was still the Carver from before, but now he understood. Bethany would suffer if he had fought. Besides, he could not take on so many templars at once. There was a fainting mother to look after, too, so Carver clenched his fists and let it happen.

  
He applied to the templar order the next morning. He would not admit it, but it was Anders' words made him worry about Bethany. Although he still refused to believe them, he could not help but imagine it was Bethany who was suffering. Now that Garett was no longer here, Carver felt he should do something. It was also his chance to prove himself. He could better protect Bethany this way.  
Knight captain Cullen went to collect him a week later. He said nothing about Bethany when Carver asked after her. Instead he warned him not to speak of his connection to a mage so openly. He then gave Carver his new armour, helped him figure out how to get dressed, and clasped his shoulder to welcome him as a brother. Only then did the door burst open, and Garrett Hawke entered.

  
The brothers stared at each other, disbelief mirrored in their eyes. Then Garrett's face hardened. Carver knew that look, so he decided to strike first.

  
"It's my choice," he started simply, "Beth -"

  
"Bethany what?" There's a hint of panic in Garrett's voice. He swept his gaze around their uncle's home, desperately trying to find their sister.

  
"She's taken to the circle."

  
"Taken to the circle? " Garrett's gaze now focused on him, filled with cold fury, "you were supposed to protect her! I left you both home so that you two can look after each other, but now this?"  
Carver clenched his fists, "if you are going to blame me for this, save it. There's nothing that I have not said to myself, but now I'm going to make it better."

  
"By joining the templars? No, you don't understand what it means -"

  
Carver stepped forward, out of knight captain's earshot, and hissed, "I'm not your little brother anymore! Do you remember that letter from father and his templar friend? I am named after him, and I will be one like him. I will watch over Bethany, and I can prove that I can protect him."

  
"Do you think others won't be suspicious? They are not going to let you near her. You are not a good liar and if they find out -"

  
"I don't NEED your protection!"

  
He didn't mean to shout, but at the heat of the moment Carver found it hard to contain his temper. His brother did not understand. This is necessary. If Garrett would not do this, Carver would make the sacrifice himself.

  
He strode past his brother to push open the door. To his surprise, he saw Anders waiting outside, anxiously shuffling his feet. When he saw Carver, his eyes widened.

  
The hurt and resentment followed was like a sudden jab to his heart. Anders scowled and turned his back, quickly disappearing into the maze of side alleys. Carver kicked at a nearby wall in a strength that he never used before. He might have broken a few bones, but he did not care. Anything to distract him from his barely contained rage. He had never felt more alone, because no one understood him. But this is the way he chose, and Carver is not a quitter. He will protect his sister, even it means that he will be forever misunderstood.

  
-

  
Carver hates to admit it, but Garrett was right. He could not see Bethany for first few months, and other templars were distrustful. Only Cullen was sympathetic, but he could not bend the rules. Carver was kept busy by a rigorous training regimes along with other recruits. Even this was not the worst part, but the taunting from some senior templars. They somehow got the information on Bethany, and they started to use it to provoke him. Carver knew it was a test of his loyalty, so he gritted his teeth and said nothing. At least he got to prove Garrett wrong - he's not a bad liar.

  
Finally, he was deemed trustworthy enough to be promoted. Soon he was assigned tasks and patrols, but he was still not allowed to the floor where Bethany resided. At least he could hear about templar movement in the city, and that was how he knew the rumour of an apostate in dark Town had attracted attention.

  
When the order of investigation was given out, Carver thought he should warn Anders, but the warmest welcome he would ever receive was a fireball thrown at his face if Carver just walked into his clinic. He hated it, but there was no other option than to find his brother. He knew Garrett had moved back to their old estate, so finding the place was not difficult.

  
After being greeted by two dwarves who appeared to be newly hired by his brother, Carver learnt that Garrett was at the library, but he was "not to be disturbed". Carver snorted at that phrase. His brother sounded like a proper aristocrat, but Carver knew the otherwise.

  
He pushed open the library door and heard a faint gasp. Frowning, he walked down the aisle to track down the source of the sound. His brother was nowhere in sight, but when Carver had found him, he wished he was never there.

  
The first thing Carver noticed was the paper flying directly at his face. He ducked and hid himself behide a bookshelf, and saw his brother pushing someone onto the desk. That someone was giggling, and in all the movement that knot on his silly red night gown had came off, revealing a chest dusted with golden curls and a flat stomach. "Garett!" he tried to protest, it turned into a moan as Carver's brother kissed his neck.

  
For an instant Carver just stood there, frozen, embarrassment overwhelmed his reason. He saw Anders wrapped his long leg around Garrett and he noticed that he was not wearing anything underneath, and that his brother had one hand down kneading Anders' ass -

  
Thankfully he felt his legs again, so Carver was spared the rest. He was sure now he was beet red. Dashing down the stairs, he headed to the main door but still sane enough to remember jotting down a warning about templars. Then he fled...


End file.
